


Lunar

by meanderingmirth



Category: VIXX
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 18:29:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4635723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanderingmirth/pseuds/meanderingmirth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The phases of the moon may come and go, but Sanghyuk’s love for Hongbin is a constant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lunar

**Author's Note:**

> This began with me wondering "what if all the phases moon was just a slideshow all along" and looking back I'm very ??? with myself, lol
> 
> Enjoy!

Hongbin was sitting at his desk in the tower on the mountain’s edge when Sanghyuk finally heaved himself through the trapdoor that evening, panting heavily from all the climbing he’d had to do to get up there.

“Is it just me, or did your ladder get longer again?” he asked, half-lying over the floor, trying to catch his breath.

“Not at all,” Hongbin grinned, dropping his quill as he walked over to help Sanghyuk wiggle his way into the room. “Maybe you’re just getting slower.”

“No way,” Sanghyuk scoffed, slinging the heavy rucksack off his shoulders and onto the floor with a  _thump_. He accepted the towel Hongbin handed to him and wiped the sweat off his forehead, puffing out a breath of air. “Anyway, this should be enough food to last you another week.”

“Great,” Hongbin said, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he helped Sanghyuk off the floor. They heaved the trapdoor shut again and dragged the backpack to the middle of the room, ready to unpack its contents. Bottles of cider, rolls of cheese, thick slabs of preserved meats and loaves of bread wrapped in heavy cloth began to stack up on the wooden dinner table in the large, circular room. Sanghyuk always brought more than a week’s worth food with him, even if it meant a heavier load on his back as he struggled up the rickety wooden ladder to the top of Hongbin’s tower. If Hongbin noticed this, he hadn’t said anything about it, but the soft kisses Hongbin presses to his temples in thanks continue to grow even softer and fonder as the days pass, and Sanghyuk knows this is Hongbin’s more intimate way of saying thanks.

“You even brought my favourite peaches,” Hongbin chuckled, peeking into a burlap sack as he stores away the foods. “I thought they came from the valley over?”

“We had a trade in the village recently,” Sanghyuk hummed, kicking his feet up on a little footstool as he observed the room. Things always got hectic when harvest season came up— Hongbin’s star and sun charts were strewn all over the room, covering chairs, countertops, and all of his other stuff on the walls: older maps of constellations, sketches of the few birds that flew as high as the tower did and half-assed attempts at painting whenever Hongbin took a break from his job.

“What does this month’s lunar cycle look like?” Sanghyuk asked, tempted to flop onto Hongbin’s squashy bed and curl up under his warm quilt, but there were all sorts of pointy brass instruments scattered over it and he wasn’t keen on getting poked in the gut.

“It’s an early cycle,” Hongbin sighed, glancing out of the window. “I hope the farmers and fishermen would be ready for it.” A small cloud was passing by, pushed along by an easy gust of wind heading southeast. Tiny pinpricks of raindrops smattered over the glass as the dying rays of the evening sun were blocked out, letting the light sound of falling rain surround the stone tower for what would probably be several minutes, at least until the cloud passed.

“They’ll have to adjust,” Sanghyuk said, shrugging. “They always have.”

Hongbin turned, giving Sanghyuk a dimpled smile, the look in his eyes a little forlorn. “They will, won’t they?” he mused, more to himself than Sanghyuk. “I suppose so.”

“That’s right,” Sanghyuk hummed. “When was the last time you slept, anyway? You have horrible bags under your eyes.”

Hongbin made a face, scowling. “You know it gets busy around the full moon. All sorts of calculations and charts have to be made so that the positions of the moon will be as accurate as it can possibly be.”

“You’ve been changing the positions of the moon in this tower ceaselessly for the past eight years, Hongbin. I have faith that you know what you’re doing.”

“Well, I don’t,” Hongbin said shortly, turning back to his desk. “Every month is different, Sanghyuk, as is every day, every hour, every second. Each year is different. Soon, every decade will be too. I can’t afford to let things slip because people depend on the cycle of the moon as much as they do for the sun for their harvest and time-keeping. I can’t let them down.”

“You never have,” Sanghyuk argued, hopping off the chair. He walked around to the desk and tugged on Hongbin’s arm, trying to get the other man to look at him. “And you never will.”

Hongbin sighed, looking warily up at the younger man. “How would you know that?”

Sanghyuk smiled, dropping his hand down to give Hongbin’s fingers a squeeze. “Because I know you. I know how seriously you always take this job. And I know that with every passing decade, you’ll still take this job just as seriously as you do now.”

Hongbin raised an eyebrow, cheeks reddening slightly, and said, “Are you saying you’ll still be around after a decade to know how well I’ll be doing?”

“Of course,” Sanghyuk said indignantly.

“You’ll still be the one to climb up that long, god-awful ladder to bring me food and water every week?” Hongbin pressed. “You’ll do that for years?”

“Even if my bones are old enough to rattle,” Sanghyuk insisted.

“And you’ll still love me, even if I’ll have to do this job until I die?” Hongbin whispered, the muscles in his jaw tensing, and Sanghyuk grinned a little, leaning over to kiss the Hongbin’s cheek lightly.

“Yeah, even then.”

Hongbin blinked at him, the flush in his face growing even more as he started to talk faster. “You’ll miss out on a proper life in your village. And it’s hard work, climbing up and down that ladder, and my work is time-consuming and difficult and I’m not always in the best of moods—”

“Hongbin,” Sanghyuk groaned, plonking his head head heavily onto Hongbin’s shoulders. “Will you please stop overthinking things.”

The elder pursed his lips, but his arms slowly came up to wrap around Sanghyuk, almost delicately, as though he was afraid Sanghyuk would suddenly disappear. “Sorry. I really haven’t been sleeping much recently. And it just feels like I’m asking too much of you to stay.”

“Moron,” Sanghyuk complained. “You never asked. I was the one who got curious and tried to climb the ridiculously long ladder at the edge of the mountainside and landed my ass up here.”

Hongbin snorted, his breath ruffling Sanghyuk’s hair as he buried his nose into the soft strands. “If I’m a moron, then you’re a fool, Han Sanghyuk.”

“Only a fool for you,” Sanghyuk sing-songed, straightening up. “C’mon, let’s make dinner before you have to put the moon up tonight. I dunno ‘bout you, but I’m starved from all that climbing.”

Hongbin snorted, but moved towards the kitchen anyway, searching through bins of food for something to eat. There was enough greens and vegetables left over for a large salad, a few slices of bread, marinated meat and several poached eggs. Hongbin shoved several rolled up maps off the dinner table to make space and Sanghyuk cleaned two plates with his sleeve, grinning cheekily when Hongbin’s face scrunched up at the sight of him rubbing his elbow into the ceramics.

They ate together, chatting loudly between bites as the sun continued to dip below the horizon, leaving nothing but a few purplish and reddish-pink streaks stretching over the skyline until it all faded away into the heavy darkness of the night. They’d barely finished clearing up the plates when the ancient grandfather clock at the other end of the room went off.

Deep, heavy sets of  _bong, bong, bong_  reverberated around the stones, and the whole tower seemed to come to life. Hongbin set his dried plate down by the sink and gave Sanghyuk a little smile as the fairy lights strung up all over the walls began to light up, throwing the room into a warm, hazy glow. High above the, at the observatory built into the very top of the tower, gadgets Sanghyuk could never accurately name whirred to life, spinning, buzzing and whistling as they cranked an enormous metal projector to life. Hongbin ran two steps at a time up the narrow, iron-wrought spiral staircase up to the observatory, and Sanghyuk followed a little slowly, too caught up in the sight of Hongbin doing his work to rush.

There was a heavy lever that Hongbin cranked with gusto, the sleeves of his sweater pushed up his forearms as he worked. The ceiling opened at a maddeningly slow pace, creaking and groaning with the stress of each crank that was loud enough to drown out the sounds of the grandfather clock below. When the mechanism gained momentum and began to turn by itself, Hongbin abandoned the lever in favour of poking and tapping away at the tiny brass buttons located behind the projector, inputting carefully calculated coordinates and numbers that Hongbin had undoubtably spent hours pouring over to ensure its accuracy. Minute clicks and clacks sounded from within the projector with each adjustment, and a minute later, Hongbin peeked over to where Sanghyuk stood, watching.

“Ready?” he asked, and Sanghyuk nodded, giddy.

“Whenever you are.”

Hongbin grinned, placed his hand on an ornate wooden switch next to the projector, and pulled.

A blaze of light instantly burst from the machine into the dark sky. It was so bright that the tower, originally lit up by the fairy lights, seemed to sink back into the shadows. Sanghyuk blinked the spots out of his eyes and followed the trail of light up into the sky. It took a few seconds, but then the narrow, circular silver-white crescent began to form, glowing brilliantly against the inky backdrop of the starry night sky until it rounded out and took its final shape.

The moon had risen for the night.

Sanghyuk had been so busy watching the process that he hadn’t realized Hongbin had moved behind him until he felt a light touch on his back. He didn’t look away, but knew Hongbin was listening.

“I’ve seen you do this before,” he said, voice a little hoarse. “But I’m still so awed by it every single time.”

Hongbin hummed and kissed the back of Sanghyuk’s neck lightly. “I do this every night and I’m still amazed by the sight of the moon in the sky,” he said quietly. “But it doesn’t compare to the sight of you standing beneath it.”

Sanghyuk paused, heart stuttering in his chest, turned, and whispered, “That was so damn cheesy, Hongbin.”

Hongbin choked a little behind him, and Sanghyuk stifled a laugh as he buckled under a neck chop. “Kidding! I’m kidding.” He leaned in and pecked a disgruntled Hongbin on the lips. “That was incredibly sweet of you, Mister Moon Caretaker.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hongbin grumbled, pushing Sanghyuk towards and back down the stairs. “I think you’re getting loopy after all that work today. Go to sleep.”

“Only if you join me,” Sanghyuk winked, and laughed again when Hongbin aimed a kick at his butt.

“It’s  _my_  bed, you idiot.”

The hum of the projector seemed to fade away as they descended down the steps, fingers interlocked with one another’s under the peaceful glow of the moon high above them. The stars and fairy lights twinkled, mischievous, and a gust of night wind seemed to sigh and blanket the tower with its gentle breath. The mountains around them slumbered in its age and heaviness, mirrored by Hongbin and Sanghyuk’s forms as they slumped together under the thick blankets and nestled into the plush pillows, legs interlocked and tucked neatly around each other (pointy brass instruments now pushed into a little box at the end of the bed).

For in their dreams, the world seemed to come to a standstill and stop at a time that belong to them, and them alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to listen to relaxing piano music while writing this but it just honestly made me really sleepy so that plan didn't fly.
> 
> Thanks for reading! ;u;


End file.
